Miranda's Monologue
by ravenpoo
Summary: Lol, I got an A on this assignment so I decided to share it with the world. It's basically what happens to Miranda after the events in The Tempest.


Miranda's Monologue:

Three years ago, civilization beyond my father and the wretched slave, Caliban, was but a dream that my memory did not guarantee. Four or five other women, but cloudy figures looking down upon me, were the only things that suggested that there was more than my father's island.

One was not able to measure my shock when Ferdinand, my future spouse, appeared on the beach, as what I believed to be a divine, noble spirit. The excitement of that day increased in leaps and bounds as I laid my eyes upon more goodly creatures. My marriage arrangements to Ferdinand were soon finished and I was off to the brave new world that contained so beautiful people.

The voyage to Naples was long, but according to my father, it was swift, aided by a dear spirit. For that spirit, I am truly grateful, because the trip was terrible. Never before had I stood on swaying land. The ease and grace of all the crew members set me in ignominy, for I could not stand, let alone keep my food.

Naples in the distance was a truly magnificent sight. Fires twinkled along its unending coast, with grand boats resting before it. The real treat came when the ship grew closer, though. There were people, eating, sleeping people. Growing up on my father's island, I had seen but two men; at the age of 12, I had seen what I considered to be an abundance of people. Now the world was before me.

Ferdinand pulled back my hair and whispered, "Admired Miranda, this land holds many wonders, but don't let this slip your mind: I do love, prize, and honor you." The wonders it held, indeed. As I set foot on Naples, my mind and eyes followed a lady, no older than I, who wore the most sumptuous clothing, resembling a carefully crafted flower. Instantly, I craved her garments and could think of nothing but owning them myself.

The city was overwhelming. The strange creatures called horses walked in rows along the stone street. Massive wood and rock cells surrounded me. Nature was not visible and apparently my distress was written on my face, for my father took me and held my tired self to his breast.

Before long, we reached my new home, a manmade mountain that rose suddenly from the flat landscape. Ferdinand took my arm and drew me to the top of multiple steps, where the entrance to his great cell was located. I spun around several times, trying to take in all the sights: people of all kinds lined the steps, large fabrics of varying colors hung from cliffs, and blaring noises came from a huddled group below. My future husband said to me, as I looked about wildly, "precious love, be calm. Those are servants before you, creatures inferior to us, creatures who follow my every command, creatures who you should ignore." However, my mind was on a young man with alluring eyes which gazed through my exterior, and upon another Miranda that sat waiting in the dark.

I spent my days in Ferdinand's cell, amusing myself with marvelous inventions. Each day, I would wander the long corridors, enchanted with my surroundings. Most of the time, Ferdinand would accompany me, usually absorbed in my giggles, chasing after me when I needed to seek a different toy. Yet when he wasn't following me, I would glimpse that other young man from the corner of my eye.

My nights were restless. That servant boy would creep into my thoughts and disturb my sleep. He would never leave and secretly, a part of me enjoyed his imagined company. Every morning until my wedding, I would lift my eyelids and the imprinted picture of his face would dissolve in the light.

My marriage to Ferdinand was complete, but looking back, I cannot recall much of the ceremony. Only a few specific details stood like milestones in my memory. The perfume I was swathed in was intoxicating and soon I was in a trance. The man I sighed for, who wasn't Ferdinand, watched me with a yearning face. When the old priest asked me a question, I almost said no, but stopped myself after seeing the hopeful, proud eyes of my father upon me.

When the sky was dark, I joined Ferdinand in bed and did so for several months. There was a problem. Ferdinand and I could not conceive and my father, whose health was deteriorating quickly, greatly wanted a grandchild. The female servants would follow me, pushing herbs from the greatest doctors in Italy toward me. Initially I took the medicine, but quickly began to dread the side affects. So I hid. Every day, I would hide somewhere new, where the female servants, not even Ferdinand, could find me.

It was in one of my secret refuges that I lost track of time and somebody discovered me. The young man opened the shed door and the waning light from outside revealed my surprised face. He entered and the Miranda that I had never experienced before took over.

After three months, it was clear I was pregnant. The rotund Alonso hobbled to his son and congratulated him. The men gathered in a different room from the one I was recumbent in. My ears could catch the sound of their laughter and merry voices and I decided that I could never tell Ferdinand.

It was around the time I was heavy with child that my father grew deeply ill. At his request, my father was brought to Naples from Milan, to see his precious daughter one last time. They placed him in the room adjacent to mine and I was aching to speak to him alone. When my attendant dosed off, I snuck with great difficulty to my father's room. He was lying awake and when I entered, his tired eyes rolled to focus on me. "Miranda," he wheezed, "why are you not resting?"

It is this part in my life that I can recollect with such acuity that it could have happened but yesterday. I looked away from him and at my enlarged abdomen which contained an illegitimate child. "Father, I have something of great and utmost importance to confess to you." When I finally returned his stare, I could tell that his stone eyes had broken the barrier that hid my secret. He knew me too well.

"Daughter, do not steal from me my sanguine expectations in my final breath."

"I would not dare to." My legs dragged my body back to me bed and I laid there like a beached monster.

The child came soon, however, not soon enough for some. I named my son Prospero, after his deceased grandfather, and I loved him dearly. No more did I amuse myself with the gadgets of the palace or the lavish fashion available to me. I focused on my Prospero and ignored the outside temptation from a certain servant's watch.

So I sit here now, Miranda, Queen of Naples, for Alonso died shortly later, next to Ferdinand, King of Naples, holding Prospero, Prince of Naples. The fancy cloths I wear do an excellent job of distracting the public from the expression of regret and scandal that I wear on my embroidered sleeve. How I have changed since I was ignorant of the brave, new world that has such people in it.


End file.
